


Catch-22 (fic and fanart)

by look_turtles



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Fanart, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:11:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/look_turtles/pseuds/look_turtles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John wants to act but can't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch-22 (fic and fanart)

John was in The Library. It had been a long day and he needed to unwind. He picked up an old tennis ball, it was covered with Bear's teeth marks and threw it from one hand to the other. Bear's watched the ball move back and forth.

'You want this?' John asked.

Bear's tail wagged.

As he threw the tennis ball at Bear he watched Finch who was typing away at a keyboard. Finch's face was in profile and lit by lamp light. It made John's chest tighten. Not for the first time he was trying to decide whether or not to act.

He had been trying to get a handle on his feelings for Finch for months. He had hoped he hadn't been wrong and Finch returned his feelings, but there was no way to know for sure. Talking about it was just not going to happen.

Finch was more than his employer he was also a friend. Hell, they even went to the movies together. If he was wrong he might lose Finch's friendship and he couldn't afford that. At this point in his life John had more guns than friends.

Bear dropped the ball at John's feet and John threw it a little harder than he needed to.

It was ridiculous. Point a gun at him and he knew exactly what to do, but when it came to feelings it was as if he was a block of stone.

He couldn't act unless he was sure, but he couldn't be sure unless he acted. It was a real catch-22.

Finch removed his glasses and looked up. 'Is there something wrong, Mr. Reese?

Finch's tie was loose and John licked his lips as a bead of sweat slid down Finch's neck, disappearing under his shirt. Images of licking the sweat flashed through John's mind. A drop of sweat shouldn't have been a turn on, but damn if it was.

'Nah... It's just... Just... Screw it.

John moved to Finch, knelt down in front of his computer chair. Finch's eyes went wide.

'I'm going to do something, but it doesn't have to change anything if you don't want it to.'

Before he could lose his nerve planted a kiss on Finch's lips.

Finch stayed still, his lips remained closed and John's heart sank. Maybe he had gotten it wrong. It wouldn't be the first time.

He broke the kiss and looked at Finch. He was afraid he would see disgust, but all he saw was shock.

'Why did you do that?' Finch asked as he touched his lips with his finger tips.

'I wanted to. It doesn't have to change anything. Sorry.'

'Why?'

John shrugged. Maybe acting hadn't been such a good idea. 'I kissed you. It seemed like you didn't want me to.'

'Ah. I see. I apologize if I came off that way. You just startled me. It was unexpected but not unpleasant. Perhaps we could start over.'

Finch leaned close and kissed John on the cheek. The scent of cool cologne filled John's nose. John moved his head and their lips met. Finch's lips were rough and chapped, but John still groaned.

He reached up and ran his fingers through Finch's hair, hair that was surprisingly soft. Finch licked at John's lips and when he opened his mouth their tongues met.

John wanted to touch skin and he moved his hand from hair to the side of Finch's neck. The skin was soft.

For several long moments they kissed, John moved his hands through Finch's hair and Finch grabbed John's shoulders and kneaded them. The warmth of his hands sunk through John's shirt.

After they broke the kiss they were both panting and John was hard in his pants.

John nipped at Finch's lips. Suddenly Finch rubbed the back of his neck and looked nervous.

'This may sudden but would you like to go home with me?' Finch asked.

John grinned. 'Ah, Finch I thought you'd never ask.'

'Harold. Call me Harold.'

John's grin got bigger. 'Okay, Harold.'

John didn't pay much attention to the cab ride to Harold's apartment, his hands were busy running up and down Harold's inner thigh, but when they stopped in front of the apartment building he let out a whistle.

The building was made of steel and glass and there was even a doorman standing outside. The doorman's bright red uniform was a contrast to the silver of the building. It looked more like an office building than an apartment building.

'You live here?' John asked as he stepped out of the cab.

'It is one of my many apartments.'

Once they got to the door the doorman tipped his hat.

'Hello, Mr. Condor. How are you this fine night?'

'I'm very well. How's the family?' Finch asked.

'Great! My youngest just got a full scholarship to collage.'

'Wonderful.'

'I know. It was from an anonymous person. Funny huh?'

'That is strange. Well, you have a good night.' 

As they walked through the apartment building something accorded to John.

'Did you set up that scholarship?' John asked.

'Perhaps.' 

As they continued to walk, John noticed a change in Harold. He stayed away from John and didn't even look at him. John thought maybe Harold was having second thoughts and his heat sank.

If Harold was having second thoughts John would leave and hopefully they could still be friends at least.

Once they got to Harold's apartment John walked in, readying himself for rejection. Once the apartment door closed however Harold pushed him against it and kissed him. It was wet, sloppy kiss that went straight to John's cock.

John broke the kiss. 'What was that?'

'What?'

'As we came up here it was like you were completely different.'

'I see. I'm very private and didn't want the other tenants to see.'

'Oh. Maybe I should leave before morning.' John wasn't disappointed. He had promised that things wouldn't change. He knew how much trust Harold had in him to just bring him to his apartment.

'I'm sorry, but perhaps we could enjoy the time we have together.'

John kissed Harold and gently held Harold's head. He was indeed going to enjoy their time together. 'Okay. How do you want to do this?'

'I was thinking perhaps we could start with kissing and see what happens. Unless you have any ideas.'

'You're the boss.'

Harold's expression turn serious. 'Not here I'm not. I can't be.'

'Okay,' John said as he started to unbutton his shirt. Once shirtless he reached for Harold and loosened Harold's tie. As much as John liked suits, Harold was wearing far too many clothes.

Harold leaned forward and their lips met. As they kissed, John continued removing Harold's clothes. Harold tried to help and their fingers tangled together. After several moments Harold was free of his jacket, vest and dress shirt; only his loosened tie remained around his neck. It had taken a while, but it had been worth it when John stepped back and took in Harold's bare chest.

His skin was pale and covered with sparse dark hair. His nipples were pink. Several old faded scars crisscrossed Harold's skin.

John reached out and rubbed his fingers through the chest hair. It was rough. He moved his fingers over to one nipple and rubbed it.

Harold groaned.

Harold groaned even louder when John moved closer and licked the nipple. The skin was salty.

Harold reached up and ran his fingers through John's hair.

John stopped licking. 'You like that, huh?'

'Oh yes, my nipples have always been sensitive.'

John licked Harold's nipple and slid down to his knees, licking Harold's stomach as he went.

He noticed the bulge in Harold's pants and decided to take care of it. John was nothing if not considerate.

He undid Harold's belt, a strip of dark brown leather and opened Harold's pants. He reached inside Harold's underwear, he was a boxer-man and pulled out Harold's cock. It was hard, the tip was dark red and the tip glistened with per-come.

John lapped up the per-come and let the salty taste sit on his tongue. Harold hissed and held the back of John's head. Not gripping John just holding him.

'Have you done ever given someone oral before?' Harold asked.

'Just once. Is that okay.' John kept it at that. There was no need to explain he had been awkward teenager at the time.

'Oh, yes. By all means continue.'

John grinned and wrapped his lip around the cock head. He might not have a lot of experience with giving blow-jobs, but he knew what he liked.

He swirled his tongue around the cock and reveled in the sounds Harold made. He moved his head up and down taking the cock a little bit deeper each time.

He was a little worried about chocking, it had happened the last time he had given someone a blow job, but he was more than a little turned on by the noises Harold was making. John's hard cock in his pants was evidence of that. With one hand he reached down and unbuttoned his pants, freeing his hard cock.

As he took Harold deep he stroked himself.

After several minutes Harold tightened his grip on the back of John's head and came. As John swallowed come he squeezed his own cock and shut his eyes as he came. 

They had spent the rest of the night together and eventually made it to the bedroom. After they laid down on the bed they kissed and touched like a couple of horny teenagers. Much too soon, John have to leave the warmth of Harold's bed.

As he left the room he didn't look back at Harold. He couldn't.

He walked into the living room and dressed in the moonlight that was steaming through the window.

During the day things stayed the same. Finch was his boss and they kept their touches professional, but at night they went home together and their touches were far from professional.

Weeks later, John was asleep in Harold's bed. They had were at John's apartment so neither of them had to leave before morning. As much as he liked going to Harold's various apartment, each one added more to the puzzle that was Harold Finch, John enjoyed awaking up next to Harold more. 

He awoke from a dreamless sleep and opened his eyes.

Morning light was shinning through a window casting a warm golden square on the white sheet that covered his lower body. He sat up and stretched reveling in the movement of muscles. His body ached from all the amorous activities (Harold's words) he and Harold had been involved in last night.

Speaking of Harold, he was asleep next to John and John could do nothing but look. The lines on Harold's face had smoothed out and he look peaceful. Harold's hair looked the same as always. John couldn't decide if it was post-sex hair, bed head or just regular Finch hair; that brought a smile to his face.

He was not a man of big sappy declarations, he just wasn't made that way, but he showed how he felt in other ways.

He moved and kissed Harold on the forehead. Harold's eyes fluttered open and he grinned.

'Good morning, John,' Harold said. His voice was rough.

'Morning.'

John reached over to a small wooden end table, picked up Harold's glasses and put them on Harold's face. John touched Harold's cheek and Harold cupped John's hands. John gasped.

Even with all the sex they had had this was the most intimate thing they had done.

'How about I go get us some breakfast?'

'You don't have food?' Harold asked as he brought John's hand up and kissed his finger tips.'

'I think I have some week old pizza in the frig. You do like cheese, mushrooms and mold, don't you?' John said jokingly.

Harold grimaced. 'No thank you.'

John swag his feet over the side of the bed and picked his wrinkled shirt up off the floor.

He got dressed and before he left he looked back a Harold who was propped up on pillows, sunlight was caressing his bare skin.

He picked up some warm, fresh bagels from a local bakery and made his way back to his apartment.

He walked into his bedroom and Harold was sitting in bed, still naked.

John sat his bag of bagels on the edge of the bed. He unbuttoned his shirt, took off his pants and went back to bed.

Tearing off a piece of bagel he fed it to Harold. He licked at John's fingers.

John smiled as he ate a piece of bagel and thought he was indeed a lucky man.

Little did he know his luck wouldn't hold out.

Later that night, John and Harold walked into one of Harold's apartments. It was small and the carpet was brown shag and seemed like it should belong to a broke collage student than a billionaire.

John went over to a yellow couch and springs squeaked as he sat down. He scrubbed his face with his hands.

A number had been killed. Like something out of a bad mystery novel the butler had done it. At least John had made sure that the guy wasn't going to hurt anyone else.

Nothing brought hime just how dangerous their job was like losing a number. He knew it was bound to happen, but that still didn't make it any easier. No matter how quickly he acted some numbers just couldn't be saved.

Harold went to his tiny kitchen and moved around and John settled against the couch.

Harold came back with a blue coffee mug.

He sat down next sat down next to John and passed the coffee mug to John.

John took it and drank from it. Cool water hit his tongue.

'Thanks.'

'You're welcome.'

Harold stood up and held out his hand. 'Come to bed with me.'

'Okay,' John said as he sat down his coffee cup and took Harold's hand.

They moved through the apartment in silents. Each step was a struggle for John as if his body were made of stone.

Once they made it to bedroom, Harold started unbuttoning John shirt. Unlike other times, his hand moved quickly and clinically. He dropped John shirt onto the floor and unfastened John's belt.

John just stood still and watched as Harold worked. He still felt as if he couldn't move.

As cool air hit his bare legs, John acted and reached for Harold's belt.

Harold grabbed John's hands and held them. 'It's all right we don't have to do anything tonight. Unless you want to, of course.'

'Oh,' John said as he kicked off his pants.

Still fully dressed, Harold laid down on his bed and motioned for John to join him.

John laid down and kissed Harold. It was a chaste brush of lips. They kissed was several minutes then John put his head on Harold's chest, Harold's suit made quite a soft pillow and fell asleep.

_John was in the middle of a room. The sounds of Jessica screaming filled the air._

_'Help me! Help me!'_

_He tried to move, anything to save her, but his arms and legs were tried with thick rope._

_The scene shifted and Harold had a bomb vest strapped to him. John tried to move, but the ropes held firm. A giant clock floating above Harold's counted down and as each second passed John struggled even more._

_Harold reached for John, his eyes wide, but his fingers couldn't reach._

_Once the clock reached zero everything went black and all he could hear were Jessica and Harold screaming._

John awoke in darkness, his breath was come out in pants and his whole body was shaking.

'John? What's wrong?' Harold asked from somewhere in the dark.

'Bad dream,' John managed to choke out.

'Oh, dear,' Harold said as he wrapped his arm around John's shoulder.

John nuzzled into Harold's neck. Harold's skin was warm and the tie around neck was soft.

After a while, John calmed down. The nightmare faded, but he knew his memories of Jessica wouldn't.

John looked over at the digital clock next to the bed. it read two-thirty.'Should I leave now?'

'You don't have to. I'd like you to stay with me.'

John smiled as he let himself be embraced. Unlike his dream this not being able to move was comforting. 

He kissed Harold's cheek.

He would stay as long as he could. In every way.


End file.
